


Of Toe Rings and Smoothies

by afinemess



Category: The Nanny
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinemess/pseuds/afinemess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-series fic in response to a challenge from ff.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Toe Rings and Smoothies

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from "The Nanny."

\--

CC Babcock pushed open the office door, her pregnant belly entering the room shortly before she did. With one hand massaging the small of her back, she walked up to Maxwell's desk, tossing the contracts onto it with a _slap_.

"Well, that was as easy as keeping an ice cube frozen in 90 degree weather," she remarked without greeting her business partner. "And it practically _is_ 90 degrees outside, stupid California weather."

Maxwell glanced out of the office window at the crystal-clear blue sky and radiant sunshine. "Yes, it's quite unenjoyable," he remarked wryly.

"I know!" CC agreed, walking over to her desk and sitting down with a slight groan.

"What made it so difficult?" Maxwell asked, running an absentminded eye over the contracts.

"The writers all had their own specific set of demands," CC explained, rolling her eyes. "I thought I hated choreographers. Let the record show, Maxwell, that I officially hate Hollywood writers even more."

"Well, hate is a strong word for that!" Max responded, standing and walking to CC's desk to hand the contracts back to her. Spotting the death glare his partner was currently giving him, Maxwell retreated to his desk and conceded, "Although I do agree that they're somewhat difficult to work with. They seem to have their own ideas about everything."

"Amen," CC muttered under her breath, swiveling in her chair to check her email.

"Other than that, things are going along as scheduled," Maxwell updated her. "The sets are coming along fine and the casting is all finished."

"Thrilling," CC remarked. Before she could question Max about the costume designer, her desk phone rang. "CC Babcock," she barked into the receiver.

"Miss Babcock, we have set design A complete and need your approval before we can begin B," a nervous-sounding male requested.

"I'm on my way," CC replied. She hung up her phone and pushed herself out of her chair, feeling her stomach weighing on her hipbones.

Maxwell looked up and noticed the discomfort evident on her face. "CC, after you take care of that, feel free to leave for the day. You should rest."

CC nodded, knowing that another problem would arise before she had the chance to leave the godforsaken studio lot.

As she reached the set, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Who OK'd this design? This looks like a hippie love fest," she demanded.

A group of twenty-something set designers stepped forward. "M-Miss Babcock-"

"Really. Did we need 20 different kinds of flowers in the nature backdrop? And what the hell is with the trees?" CC demanded, motioning toward the row of perfectly symmetrical trees. "I feel like I was just dropped in Mr. Rogers' neighborhood."

"The trees look good," one of the more brazen designers said.

"The show is going to be debut in the fall; during autumn, leaves change color," CC said.

"I like trees with green leaves. Trees with red leaves makes them look angry," the hippie-love-fest girl, who CC recognized as one of the loathed writers, said wistfully.

CC stared in disbelief at the group. The three designers and one writer looked back at her, some apprehensively, some defiantly. Wordlessly, CC turned on her heel and marched off of the set, sliding her cell phone out of her pocket.

"Maxwell, I'm leaving for the day."

\--

Entering Max and Fran's house, CC hoped to find her husband but realized moments later that she had little energy to do so. She mustered her last reserve of energy to walk to the couch and sit carefully down. Flipping open her cell phone again, CC dialed Niles' number and waited, closing her eyes and resting her head against the plump cushions.

"Hello, hello," Niles greeted his wife brightly.

"Where are you?"

"I'm excellent, darling. Thank you so much for asking."

"Niles. Where are you?" CC asked again.

Sensing his wife wasn't in the most playful mood, Niles replied, "I'm in the Sheffield's kitchen, preparing for dinner. Why?"

"I'm in the living room. Come say hi to me."

"Lazy woman, you couldn't even call out my name? I would have heard you," Niles said in disbelief. Regardless, he set down his chopping knife and exited the kitchen, eager to see his wife.

He found CC lounging on the couch, her phone still propped against her ear. Carefully sliding it out of her grasp and setting it on the coffee table, Niles sat down next to her. "Hello, Babcock."

"Hi, Butler Boy," CC replied. He leaned forward to kiss her in greeting and she happily accepted.

"How was your day?" Niles asked.

CC scowled. "I hate Hollywood. One of the script writers asked when I was finally going to 'pop' so that my pregnancy hormones would be gone."

"And what did you say or do to cause them to ask you that?"

CC narrowed her eyes at him.

"I mean, how dare they? I'll go down to that studio right now and defend my woman, like a good husband should," Niles declared in faux-indignation.

"That's better."

"But really, sweetheart, you hate the writers. What does it matter if they dislike you?" Niles wanted to know.

"Well just because someone doesn't like you, doesn't mean you should be rude…at least not like that," CC said.

Niles didn't quite follow her train of thought on that one but he saw the exhaustion in her eyes and decided not to pursue the matter.

"What's for dinner?" CC asked, knowing a good wife ought to inquire about her husband's day.

"Veal tenderloin with herb-roasted potatoes," Niles replied.

CC made a face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"CC, you made a face. What? No good?"

"It's fine."

"You don't want veal?" Niles questioned.

"I said it's fine."

"Potatoes no good?"

"I absolutely love potatoes!" CC exclaimed with sarcastic enthusiasm.

Niles stared at her. "Why, that's just plain cantankerous."

"Cantankerous? You're so British, Niles," CC said, rolling her eyes.

"Keep it up, Babcock, and you'll be eating dinner with Chester. Alpo's on the menu tonight."

"Sounds better than veal tenderloin," CC muttered.

"You just said veal was fine," Niles said with an air of frustration in his voice.

"Sorry, I'm just being _cantankerous_ today," CC retorted.

Niles closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood up. "I can give that to the Sheffield's and order takeout for us, if you'd like."

CC's shoulders fell and she leaned forward, putting her head in her hands as best as her six-month belly would allow. "Sorry, Niles," she muttered. "I'm just tired."

Niles placed a gentle hand on the top of her head. "I know, love. Why don't you go over to our house and relax on the couch?"

"Help me up?" CC asked hopefully, raising her eyes to his.

Niles reached out both hands and pulled CC off the couch, groaning with the effort. "Good Lord, Babs! What's in here? Stones?" He peeked into her maternity suit jacket and felt in her pockets for any added weight.

CC's eyes widened in horror and she placed a hand on her stomach. "I'm not that huge, am I?"

Niles laughed and squeezed her arm. "I'm just kidding. You're still the half-ton heifer I fell in love with."

CC balled up a fist and punched him square on the arm.

"Hi, Miss Babcock," Brighton greeted, entering the living room. "You've got a pretty good right hook. Doing ok, Niles?"

Niles nodded, his eyes filling with tears. "Great," he wheezed.

"Hello, Trevor," CC replied.

Niles rubbed his arm and looked at Brighton's attire. "Did you just wake up?"

"It's tough adjusting to California time," Brighton said defensively. "I'm still on Europe time."

"You got back from Paris three months ago," CC reminded him.

"She can't remember my name, but my travel itinerary, she knows," Brighton quipped to Niles. "Besides, sleeping is like success to teenagers. It makes them happy."

"You aren't much of a teenager anymore, Kevin," CC pointed out.

"My lovely wife has a point," Niles said, slipping his arm around CC's waist, eager to be in her good graces again. "And if you ever want one of your own, I'd suggest you start behaving like more of an adult."

"A point or a wife?" Brighton asked.

"Excuse me?"

"If I ever want a point of my own or a wife of my own?" Brighton queried.

"A wife," Niles replied, confusion befuddling his face.

"Your phrasing was a little off, dear," CC said.

"Did you learn that from your script-writer friends?" Niles asked innocently. CC shot a murderous glare in his direction and he quickly stepped away from her, guarding his arms.

"Either way," Brighton continued, "dating is a little non-existent for me. Right now, at least."

"Perhaps it's because you sleep 18 hours out of the day," Niles suggested.

"I think it's the girls my age," Brighton declared. "In high school, it was all about filling the awkward silences with stupid, borderline-offensive jokes. But now, some girls actually want to talk. Being with someone without awkward silence isn't normal…in fact, it's a little awkward."

"You get that from your father," Niles said.

"Oh, please. He probably learned it from you," CC replied. "Maxwell's never had trouble getting women."

"I know a woman who had some trouble getting Maxwell," Niles volleyed back.

"Would you like to keep going? Because right now, I have the garden swing booked as your sleeping location for the next three weeks. Please, continue. I like having the big bed all to myself."

"Yes, it's much roomier than that coffin you frequented for so many years."

"Four weeks on the garden swing," CC said in what Niles liked to refer to as her "warning tone". "I should make a note of this somewhere."

Brighton watched the verbal warfare before his stomach began to growl. He turned and walked away in the direction of the kitchen, muttering to himself about why he'd _ever_ want a wife of his own.

\--

CC pulled the curtains shut in her bedroom and turned around just as Niles walked through the doorway.

"Oh, did you come to get your pillow? Because unfortunately, those forced to sleep outside do not deserve the luxury of a pillow or a blanket," CC snapped.

"I've come to plead my case for the right, no, the _privilege_ of sleeping next to you this evening," Niles said.

CC glanced at the alarm clock on her side of the bed. "You have exactly one minute."

Niles stepped closer to her, attempting to hide his grin. He loved that his spitfire wife remained as playful as ever, despite the stress of pregnancy and her new job in Hollywood. He had never dreamed that marriage could actually be as fun as it was with her.

"If you let me stay," Niles opened, bowing slightly, "I will give you both a back _and_ foot massage." He looked up and met her eyes, knowing her interest was piqued. The long hours she spent on her feet wreaked absolute havoc on her back, as her obstetrician had warned they would.

"Listening…" CC acknowledged, stepping closer to him.

"I will serve you breakfast in bed tomorrow, as it will be Saturday and you can afford to sleep in a little longer."

"Continue…"

"And I will provide any other services that could help to… _relax_ you," Niles finished, looking at her suggestively.

"Niles!" CC exclaimed, stepping away from him. "This _half-ton heifer_ no longer accepts any riders."

Niles couldn't help but burst into laughter, even knowing that it would get him in trouble. "CC, love, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes I do," CC said, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "I'm huge. I can't even stand to look at myself in the mirror when I get out of the shower."

"Oh I can," Niles assured her.

"No," she said adamantly. "I'm disgusting."

"You're pregnant."

"I'm not seeing the difference."

"CC," Niles said, reaching forward and grabbing one of her hands. "I will never understand how you can see yourself as anything but sublimely gorgeous. I would take your clothes off in a jiffy and prove to you, over and over, how beautiful you are to me."

"Did the Butler's Club start a word-of-the-day program? First cantankerous, now jiffy."

"What's wrong with jiffy?"

"It's a funny word."

"Jiffy is a very funny word. It's also descriptive and meaningful," Niles defended.

"How so?"

"Well, it sounds funny. But it also describes how quickly I could undress you right now, and it's meaningful in that it ought to prove to you just how much I want to undress you right now," Niles explained.

CC smiled and nodded. "Ok, Niles."

"Ok?"

"Ok," she affirmed. "You can sleep in here tonight. Just give me a back massage _in a jiffy_ and we'll see where that leads."

"Ok, my cantankerous little wife," Niles said, leading her over to their bed.

\--

CC awoke the next morning and stretched languidly, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. Moments later, Niles entered the room with a blonde wood breakfast tray, laden with waffles, eggs, bacon, orange juice, and water.

"Niles, that looks delicious," CC gushed, sitting up eagerly.

"Then maybe you should have woken up an hour ago to cook it for yourself," Niles replied, placing the tray over his lap after he sat down on his side of the bed.

CC pouted. "If you don't share, I'm going to brainwash our daughter to hate you."

Niles' heart nearly melted at "our daughter" but he kept up with the ruse. "Oh please, Babcock. If she's anything like you, you won't need to brainwash her."

"I'm kidding, Niles," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek and swipe a piece of bacon from his plate.

"Hey!" Niles exclaimed in protest.

"Oh please. Have I ever done something nice when there wasn't something in it for me?"

"Yes, bottle blondes are a little…sneaky," Niles granted. "Fortunately for you, sandy-haired butlers with a nice build are very generous." He lifted the tray and set it between them.

"So glad we've managed to overcome your self-esteem issues, lover," CC told him, pouring syrup in a light drizzle over the golden waffles. She cut into them, careful not to tip the tray, and hovered a piece on a fork in front of Niles' face. "And fortunately for you, I still love you." He opened his mouth and took the waffle, giving her a syrupy kiss after.

"So what's on the agenda for today, hubby?" CC asked, crunching on her bacon.

Niles absently grabbed the knife and fork to eat some waffles himself before answering, "I think Mrs. Sheffield wants to go shopping."

CC eyed him beadily. "Why did you take the silverware away from me before you told me that?"

"What?" Niles asked, wide-eyed and innocent.

"Niles, I don't mind Nanny Fine anymore," CC said. "Sure, her voice makes my ears bleed and her outfits burn my corneas, but I'm able to tolerate her for a full meal now. Shopping can't be that bad."

Niles nodded. "I know. That isn't why I took the knife away from you."

"Then why?"

Niles took a deep breath. "Well, Fran thought it would be a good idea if the whole family went, especially now that Brighton's back. She thought Grace might need a break."

"Niles, the boy and the little one seem to like me. That's still not a reason to remove all possible weapons."

Niles nodded and plowed on, "She invited Yetta and Sylvia."

\--

"Did you hear that?" Fran asked from the breakfast nook, glancing out the plate-glass windows to the backyard.

"Hear what?" Maxwell returned, keeping one eye on the newspaper.

"Sounded like Miss Babcock going into labor or somethin'," Fran said, looking toward the guest house. She shrugged and returned her attention to the society portion of the newspaper. "Ooh, look, Max!"

"What's that, darling?" Maxwell asked, turning to look at Fran's section.

"It's a picture of Brad Pitt kissing—OH MY GOD!"

"What?" Maxwell asked, alarmed.

"He's kissing a woman _who is not his wife_."

"Well, that's not altogether shocking, sweetheart," Maxwell replied.

"But again? And they're showing it in the newspaper?"

Maxwell furrowed his brow and leaned closer. "Darling. That's the poster for his new movie."

Fran peered closer. "Oy, I got so nervous. Meanwhile, kissing under a rainbow is something I've always wanted to do."

"Why don't you?" Maxwell asked airily, his attention back on his section of the paper.

"It would have to rain first, sweetie, and you've seen my hair in high humidity. I look like Aretha Franklin," Fran explained.

\--

"NO," CC said adamantly.

"Love, I've already told them we'd go," Niles said. "It will be fun. You need a relaxing afternoon."

"Niles, rifling through thrift stores and _discount warehouses_ is not a relaxing afternoon!" CC shrieked.

"We won't. We'll strictly keep it to Rodeo Drive and Neiman Marcus," Niles promised.

"Niles…"

"Just a few hours, love," Niles pledged.

\--

Niles and CC walked to Max and Fran's, Niles bedecked in khakis and a navy blue polo, CC in a salmon-pink cap-sleeve sundress and matching strapped sandals.

"Good afternoon!" Fran greeted excitedly. "I'm so excited!"

"I couldn't tell," CC muttered.

"Oh Miss Babcock, you look so cute!" Fran squealed. "Look at your baby bump!"

CC's eyes widened and she looked accusingly at Niles. "I told you!"

"CC, you don't look fat," Niles said for the umpteenth time. "You can barely see your bump, just like I told you before we left our house to go shopping with Mrs. Sheffield and her family _at Mrs. Sheffield's request_."

Fran cottoned on quickly. "Oh, Miss Babcock, stop worrying. Anyone will be too distracted by your gigantic hoo-has to notice your baby bump."

Niles looked at Fran quizzically. "Thank you for your unique insight, Mrs. Sheffield. Is everyone ready?"

Fran nodded. "They're all waiting in the car. Let's go!" Niles and CC followed Fran through the house to the garage. Niles paused in front of the SUV, a recent "family vehicle" purchase that Fran had no doubt wheedled Max into buying.

"Where's Maxwell?" CC asked, echoing Niles' unspoken thoughts.

"He opted out. Let's get going to beat the crowds!" Fran hopped into the driver's seat and revved the engine.

"If Mr. Sheffield isn't going—" Niles began.

"Niles. I know what you're thinking. And NO," CC said again. "If you don't go, I'll kill them all. I just know I will."

Sylvia knocked on the window of the car with her large silver rings, beckoning the couple into the backseat.

Niles' shoulders slumped as he opened the door and helped CC into the backseat next to Yetta. As soon as Niles shut the door, Fran took off out of the garage and swung onto Laurel Canyon Boulevard.

CC closed her eyes and gripped Niles' leg, nauseous thanks to a wicked combination of Fran's driving, Sylvia's on-the-road tuna sandwich, and Yetta's gas. Niles slid his arm over her shoulders and drew lazy circles with his finger on her arm, hoping to appease her stomach.

Yetta leaned in close and looked at CC. "Miss Babcock, you should get married soon."

"Why's that, Yetta?" CC asked with her jaw clenched against the nausea and her annoyance.

"I think you might be pregnant," Yetta stage-whispered.

CC opened her eyes and looked directly into Yetta's magnified ones. "The test results are still pending."

Fran's grandmother pat CC's knee conspiratorially and replied, "As soon as you know, I'll help plan the bridal shower. I know a great stripper service."

"Good idea, Yetta," Grace said in an appeasing tone from the small third row of seats behind Niles and CC.

Fran pulled the SUV into a parking garage on Brighton Way and found a spot near the entrance. "Here we are!" she announced unnecessarily. Niles, CC, Brighton, and Grace made a bid to get out of the SUV as quickly as possible.

"Niles, will you drive back?" Brighton asked in an undertone.

"I'll try," Niles replied reassuringly. "Where to first, gang?"

"I could go for lunch," Fran said. Sylvia and Yetta quickly seconded the notion.

"I'm not hungry yet," CC said. A chorus of agreement from the Sheffield kids followed.

"All righty. Why don't we split up and meet at Tiffany in an hour?" Fran suggested. Following nods from the group, she continued, "Ok, Ma, Yetta, and I will go to Nate & Al's. See you in an hour!" The Fine family headed off in the direction of the deli and Niles turned to his group, which decided to walk down Rodeo Drive and enjoy the scenery until it was time to meet in Tiffany & Co.

CC slid her hand against Niles' and twined their fingers together; Niles pulled her hand up to his mouth, giving it a small kiss. They shared a private smile and continued walking.

Brighton mimicked gagging noises and Grace elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up, Brighton. I think they're sweet."

As they passed a children's boutique, Grace stopped walking. "Oh, Miss Babcock, look! This would be adorable in the nursery."

The couple turned and gazed at an antique doll house, resplendent with intricate details. Niles smiled and nodded while CC grimaced.

"I hate doll houses," she muttered.

"Why, because you had a fancy one and no one ever wanted to play with you when you were a kid?" Niles joked.

"Yes, actually," CC replied in a dull voice. She continued walking, accompanied now by Grace.

"Smooth, old man," Brighton said in a British accent. Niles fake-punched him on the arm and continued walking.

An hour later, the group met outside the marble entrance to Tiffany and entered, a wave of cool air greeting them. Niles caught up with CC and grabbed her hand once more.

"We won't get our daughter a doll house," he vowed.

"Why not? I'll just screw her up like my parents screwed me up. If she isn't going to have any friends, she ought to learn how to handle it early on," CC replied, walking up to the glass cases.

"Since my self-esteem issues are resolved, I suggest we work on yours next," Niles told her.

"There's nothing wrong with my self-esteem, Niles. I'm just honest," she replied.

"Miss Babcock! Come over here," Fran called out, her nasal voice echoing off the marble and glass. CC winced and walked away, slipping her hand away from her husband.

"Yes, Nanny Fine?"

"We should get these!" Fran said. CC leaned over the glass and peered in, seeing two matching charm bracelets.

"Friendship bracelets?" CC asked.

"Yes!" Fran cried.

"But Nanny Fine, we aren't friends," CC said. Fran's face fell faster than raindrops from the sky. "I mean…our friendship can't be conveyed through a bracelet. It's deeper than that."

Fran smiled, her eyes shining. "Oh Miss Babcock. That was beautiful."

CC returned the smile, awkwardly patting Fran's shoulder before walking over to Niles and Brighton. "What are you looking at?"

"We're trying to figure out what these are," Brighton replied. "They look like rings for little kids."

"They're toe rings," CC said. "$500 toe rings, but still toe rings."

"People wear rings on their toes?" Niles asked in disgust.

"Yes, Methuselah," CC retorted. "It's a fashionable accessory for your feet."

"I thought shoes were fashionable accessories for feet," Niles said, staring at the small silver rings.

"Sometimes shoes aren't enough," CC replied with a shrug.

"Can I help you with anything?" a brunette in a black outfit asked, walking up behind the counter.

"No, thank you," CC answered.

"Toe rings are a little ridiculous…I mean rings, on your toes?" Niles asked. The salesgirl raised one eyebrow. "Who's heard of shoes? Show of hands?" Niles stuck his hand in the air and Brighton meekly followed.

"I'm sorry," CC said, pulling her husband away from the counter. "I thought Nanny Fine wouldn't be able to behave. I didn't think _you'd_ be unruly. Maybe we should just stick to the bargain outlets."

"OH MY GOD," Sylvia exclaimed on the other side of the shop.

"I'm going to leave before anyone thinks I'm with you lunatics," CC said, turning toward the exit. Niles slipped his arm into hers and veered her over toward Sylvia.

"Is everything all right, Sylvia?" Niles asked.

"Niles, look at this!" Sylvia exclaimed, pointing toward a magazine she had propped open on the display case.

"Gorgeous," Niles said.

"NO!" Sylvia exclaimed. "I could have been a jewelry model! My second cousin opened a jewelry store and asked me to be a model. I have such lovely hands." CC glanced down at Sylvia's veined, plump hands and unsuccessfully stifled a snort. Sylvia glared at CC. "I _used to_ have lovely hands, before I had Nadine. I had to give up my heart's desire after that."

"So you gave up your dreams for your child? That makes me look bad…" CC said, referring to her choice to keep her career.

"Some people choose to spend as much time around their children as possible, Miss Babcock," Sylvia returned faux-politely. "Others must think making money is more important."

CC blinked and looked away, slipping away from the group when Sylvia continued moaning over her lost chance at fame. Niles turned to follow his wife before Sylvia reached out her hand and grabbed onto Niles' arm, forcing him to point out the similarities between the model's hand and hers. Brighton looked over at CC before following her.

"Miss Babcock, I don't think she really meant that," Brighton said cautiously.

CC looked over at the boy whose name she could never manage to remember. She hoped she'd be able to remember her daughter's name, if she and Niles ever reached an agreement about what it would be. "Thanks."

"Either way, children is something I'm definitely out of. Just the word makes me cringe," Brighton continued. CC looked at him in confusion, wondering what he possibly meant. "I just mean, I used to think we had that in common. You never seemed to really like kids." She continued staring at him, hoping he had a good finish planned. "But what I think it is, I just think you don't like _other_ peoples' kids. Isn't that how some people are? And I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"I don't hate you Sheffield kids, if that's what you're getting at," CC said. "Though I really can't tell what the hell kind of point you're attempting to make."

"We know you don't hate us. My point is, I don't really like other peoples' kids. But I hope to someday have some of my own. I don't think the fact that I don't necessarily like kids all the time will determine what kind of parent I'll be." He sighed, knowing he'd talked himself in circles as usual. "I think you'll be a good mother, Miss Babcock."

"Will I, though? It never really occurred to me to quit working," CC admitted.

Grace walked up, having overheard the majority of the conversation. "I don't think you should worry about that, Miss Babcock. You can't give someone all of you, you have to keep some so _you_ still belongs to you."

Brighton sighed. "And in one sentence, my little sister summed up what took me five minutes to barely say."

Impulsively, CC reached forward and gave Brighton and Grace a quick, fierce hug. CC smiled gratefully at the pair of them before walking away quickly from the tide of emotions.

"I saw you," Niles said.

"Saw me what?"

"I saw you hug Brighton and Grace," Niles continued gleefully.

CC rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Niles stepped in front of her quickly, halting her steps down the sidewalk. "I'm starting to think you might have a heart somewhere in there, Babs."

CC narrowed her eyes at him. "Excuse me, you're in my bubble…get out of it."

"As your husband, I reserve the right to be in your bubble," Niles responded.

"If I admit to your accusations, can we keep walking? I'm hungry."

"I'll concede to that."

"Yes, I hugged them. They're sweet brats, just like you," CC confessed. "Now out of my way."

Niles happily fell into step beside her again as the couple entered the deli Fran and her family had dined in earlier.

\--

Walking down the bright sidewalk with a strawberry smoothie in hand, CC felt herself relaxing again. Just as she was about to thank Niles for convincing her to come out, she stopped in her tracks. "It's her!"

"Who?" Niles asked.

"Hippie love fest!"

"That's a _name_?" Niles queried incredulously. "I don't understand California. I really don't. First _toe rings_ , and now—"

"Niles, shut up," CC said. "That isn't her name. It's what I decided her name should be when she started prattling on about angry trees."

"Ma, I don't think the stores are changing," Fran said, coming up behind the couple. "I think your waistline is."

"Shopping just isn't my thing," Sylvia decided. "I mean, you have to try everything on when you're my age."

"Or when you pick up size 4s," Fran muttered, shaking her head and rolling her eyes simultaneously. "Why'd we stop walking?"

"That's one of the writers from the studio," Niles explained while CC seethed. "Writers are the new Broadway choreographers."

"Gotcha," Fran said. "What'd she do?"

"She asked when I was going to 'pop' so my mood swings would go away," CC told her.

Fran gasped. While she knew CC's mood swings would never go away, pregnancy solidarity caused Fran to side with CC. She knew how rough it could be. "She sounds awful, Miss Babcock."

"She is," CC agreed.

"Let's go over there," Fran suggested.

"What? Why?" Niles said, knowing the trouble his two favorite women could get into.

"Revenge," CC growled, bloodlust in her eyes. Brighton's eyes widened and he stepped back a few paces from the group.

"Let's go," Fran said, grabbing CC's hand and quickly walking up the pavement.

"Well, look who it is," Fran said loudly when they'd reached her.

The young writer glanced over at Fran, confused. "Who is it, exactly?" she asked.

CC stepped from behind Fran and narrowed her eyes at the girl.

"Oh," the girl said, deflating slightly. "You're the preggo one from the studio."

"Actually, I'm your boss," CC corrected.

"No, I work for the studio," she returned. "Nice try, though."

Fran elbowed CC gently, urging her on.

"Regardless, we work together, and it would be nice if you showed me some respect," CC said. Fran cocked an eyebrow, wondering if this is how CC had cornered girls in high school. This certainly wasn't what Fran remembered doing.

The girl scoffed. "Don't you have an appointment to go to? Maybe to ask about upping the meds?"

Fran's jaw dropped and CC's eyes narrowed. Before she could talk herself out of it, CC yanked the lid off of her smoothie and poured it down the front of the girl's white shirt.

Niles was behind CC in a flash, restraining her arms and pulling her back. "Are you _insane_? You're acting like a—"

"Like a crazy pregnant woman!" the writer exclaimed, sluicing the smoothie off of her shirt. "Why don't you keep a tighter leash on your wife? You're responsible for her."

"I don't think responsible is the word you're looking for, but if you insist…" Niles muttered, still trying to pull CC back.

"Let me go, Niles!"

"God, my shirt is ruined!" the girl cried.

"And just whatchya gonna do 'bout it?" Fran said, swooping in and crossing her arms over her chest.

"What is this, the bitch mafia?" the girl wanted to know.

Niles widened his eyes. "You'll want to watch your mouth, or I'll let this hellion go."

Rolling her eyes, the girl walked off, dripping smoothie on the sidewalk.

"Well done, Miss Babcock," Fran squealed, spinning around to face CC. "I don't recommend wasting tasty good treats, but after a shaky dismount, you stuck the landing perfectly. Let's go toilet paper someone's house!"

"Mrs. Sheffield, all of the houses within a 50 mile radius have armed security guards and watch dogs," Niles reminded her.

"Hmph. I miss Queens," Fran said wistfully.

"I feel better," CC declared, slipping out of Niles' grasp. "I'm still hungry, though."

"Let's get a celebratory milkshake," Fran suggested. "There's a great place a few blocks from our neighborhood." Taking the lead, Fran walked down the sidewalk with Niles and CC flanking her.

\--

Sitting outside on their patio later that night, CC twirled the speared lemon wedge in her strawberry lemonade.

"I think you started a trend," Niles said, watching as Fran crept up to the privacy fence and threw a roll of toilet paper over into the neighbor's yard.

CC chuckled. "You never really get over it."

"Guess not," Niles said, popping a slice of cheese and a cracker into his mouth.

"Niles," CC began.

"Yes?"

"Do you think I should stop working once the baby's born?" she asked. "Be a stay-at-home mom like Nanny Fine?"

"Love, you can't really compare giving up your career to Mrs. Sheffield transitioning from nanny to mother."

"You know what I mean."

"Honestly? No."

"But why?" CC asked.

"Because that's part of who you are. You love your job. Maybe not so much in California but if we ever go back to Manhattan, you loved it there," Niles explained.

"So you don't think I'll be a horrible mother who doesn't spend enough time with our daughter?"

"I think you'll be a splendid mother who shows our daughter that she can be an intelligent, independent, successful woman," he told her. "I can't think of a better role model."

"Still, wouldn't you want a wife who was more…available?"

"CC, I love you," Niles said, looking her square in the eye. She felt her cheeks flush and she looked down at her lemonade. "Do you know what that means?"

"What?"

"That I love you. Do you know what that means?" Niles asked. CC shook her head slowly. "Being in love isn't about who, it's about _you_. I married you knowing who you are and what you stand for and I love you because of it, not in spite of it. I never once assumed you'd give up any of what you're passionate about just because the circumstances of your life might change."

"But—"

"I also know that you've spent the majority of your life questioning yourself and wondering if you ought to change to please everyone around you," Niles continued. "And if you ever, for one second, think that you need to change for me, then I'm not being a very good husband."

CC felt her eyes begin to water. "Stupid hormones," she muttered, grabbing a napkin and hiding her face.

Niles grinned and walked over to her side of the table, wrapping his arms around her. "And on this day in history, the Ice Queen melted a little more." Niles expected a punch for that but was surprised when instead, he felt CC's arms slide around him.

Squeezing him tightly, CC said softly, "I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Check kateandharvey's page on ff.net for this fanfic challenge, which stipulated that the fic needed to contain the following 26 phrases:   
> 1\. I hate doll houses.  
> 2\. Well just because someone doesn't like you, doesn't mean you should be rude...at least not like that.  
> 3\. I absolutely love potatoes!  
> 4\. Being with someone without awkward silence isn't normal...In fact, it's a little awkward.  
> 5\. Friendship bracelets?  
> 6\. Toe rings are a little ridiculous... I mean rings, on your toes? Who's heard of shoes? Show of hands?  
> 7\. Being in love isn't about who, it's about YOU.  
> 8\. That was as easy as keeping an ice cube frozen in 90 degree weather.  
> 9\. Excuse me, you're in my bubble... get out of it.  
> 10\. Dating is a little non-existent for me.  
> 11\. Well, hate is a strong word for that!  
> 12\. And just whatchya gonna do 'bout it?  
> 13\. Shopping just isn't my thing... I mean, you have to try everything on when you're my age.  
> 14\. Sleeping is like success to teenagers. It makes them happy.  
> 15\. Children is something I'm definitely out of. Just the word makes me cringe.  
> 16\. I don't think responsible is the word you're looking for, but if you insist...  
> 17\. I like trees with green leaves. Trees with red leaves makes them look angry.  
> 18\. So you gave up your dreams for your child? That makes me look bad...  
> 19\. Jiffy is a very funny word. It's also very descriptive and meaningful.  
> 20\. Are you insane? You're acting like a _.  
> 21\. You can't give someone all of you, you have to keep some so you still belongs to you.  
> 22\. Yes, bottle blondes are a little... sneaky.  
> 23\. Kissing under a rainbow is something I've always wanted to do.  
> 24\. Why, that's just plain cantankerous.  
> 25\. What's in here? Stones?  
> 26\. The test results are still pending.


End file.
